Story Nuggets
by Cheeseball417
Summary: I have a series of shorts. Some only a few sentences, but all are story nuggets that I would love to see expanded upon. Let me know if any jump out and I will try and work as many as possible into a coherent story. If anyone is interested using part in an existing story of theirs, PM me and I will get back to you. I may add more, maybe not.


**AN** Alrighty, here I have a series of shorts. Some only a few sentences, but all are story nuggets that I would love to see expanded upon. Let me know if any jump out and I will try and work as many as possible into a coherent story. If anyone is interested using one (or two) in an existing story of theirs, PM me and I will get back to you.

~ #1 ~

During their 6th year.

She watched him hustle from the Quidditch Pitch clutching his left arm. His broom lay abandoned on the pitch and his teammates called after him. Madame Hooch was infuriated that he had fled with a fractured arm, but quickly she blew the whistle to continue play, leaving the Slytherin team, lacking a Seeker at a disadvantage, but Quidditch waits for no man. Not even a Malfoy.

Hermione scanned the skies quickly, located both Ron and Harry situated near the Gryffindor goal posts. She moved quickly, but quietly, hoping not to draw too much attention to herself or her cursory plan. By the time she made it out of the stands, he was halfway to the castle; by the time he reached the second floor, she was winded on the staircase a floor below. Upon reaching the second floor, he was gone, so she relied on the senses other than sight.

Muffled sobbing. The grief was there, no matter how faint. One foot in front of the other, allowing the sound to guide her, Hermione stared at the doorway to the women's lavatory. Slowly, ever so slowly, She pushed open the door, praying to all that was holy he would not kill her on the spot.

He was bent over a sink, his frame shaking with the sobs he was trying to control. His left arm hung limp by his side while he braced himself against the sink with his right, wand in hand.

"Malfoy?" She was ready for his curse. A flash of red light met her shield; with another flick of her wand, his clattered to the floor. "Malfoy, I just want to help. You can't heal a broken arm on your own."

"Get out of here, Granger." He spat, glaring me dead in the eyes.

He wanted to project hatred as he had for the past several years, but this time his eyes were those of a boy crying for help. His hair stuck to his forehead with sweat from his previous exertion and his Quidditch uniform seemed far to large for him, perhaps that had something to do with his skipping of meals.

"Malfoy, I know what is on your arm. I know why you don't want the professors to see. Let me help you." With each word she took a step closer, never breaking eye contact, until at her concluding plea, her hands rested on his hips, ready to pull his jersey up over his head to provide her better access to his injury. He stared at her for a long time, his mind at war with itself, but then, ever so slightly, he nodded, providing his consent for her to begin her ministrations.

She helped him remove is shirt and cast a protective spell on the door, preventing any intruders. There it was. The dark mark. It stood so bold against his pale skin; it looked so out of place. "I'm sorry." Hermione whispered, more to herself than to him, but with their proximity he heard.

"I don't need your pity, Granger." He spat, but his tone lacked its typical bite, "I only need your services."

~ #2 ~

During the Battle of Hogwarts. In the Room of Requirement with the Fiendfyre.

3 broomsticks. They had an extra broomstick for Hermione refused to steer her one. One boy had already died in the fire, he couldn't let the other two. Harry dove down to the top of the tower, throwing the dated broom to Malfoy and allowing Goyle passage on his broom.

The three brooms moved fast, Malfoy's, with the least weight, leading the pack. Harry with Goyle and Malfoy twisted and turned their brooms away from and through the leaping flames of the FiendFyre. Ron with Hermione constantly remained two steps behind. Soon his ineptitude proved lethal as Ron drew up the tip of his broom in a hard stop, allowing Hermione to slide off the back and into the flames above.

A look of panic plagued his face. Not her! He dove down, as he had done so many times on the Quidditch Pitch, looking for the bushy haired girl among the flames. Ron, seemingly unconcerned with his missing passenger, hurried after Harry as the latter dipped and turned.

As cliche as it sounds, her life flashed before her eyes. Their first days at Hogwarts to their last. Her parents and the Weasleys. The flames licked at her hair and her cloths. She was ready. All the Horcruxes were found. She was no longer needed. She could die now and the war could still be won. A hand reached out and he yanked. Hard. He held onto her as if his life depended on it and soon, they crashed through the door and into the trolls painting on the seventh floor.

By the time Ron and Harry finished expelling soot from their lungs, they crawled to where Hermione lay. Beside Malfoy's broom.

~ #3 ~

In an eighth year type scenario.

"You could have joined us anytime!" Hermione shouted at him, finally tired of the blonde's woe-is-me attitude. "You chose! You chose to receive your mark!" She had been expecting an explosive response, but instead the boy across from her spoke in low measured voice.

"I had a choice." He spoke as if testing the words out. "I had a choice? Interesting. My family, on all sides had believed in blood supremacy for hundreds of years, but I had a choice."

''Sirius came from the same family as you and he fought for good! Tonks! She's your cousin!"

"So the Order would have taken me regardless of who I was?" Hermione nodded vigorously, "Even after I called you mudblood countless times? After my father aided in opening the Chamber of Secrets? After I tried to kill the hippogriff? What about after my father and aunt tried to kill your friends?" She tried to stop him, but he continued over her protests, his volume increasing, "But certainly take me after I received my own dark mark! And of course after I tried to kill Dumbledore!"

"You didn't kill him!"

"True, true. But I provided the entrance for the Death Eaters to come kill all my sleeping classmates." His last sentence hung in the air. Malfoy collapsed into the ornate sofa behind him, sinking back defeated. After a time that felt like hours, he spoke again, "I wanted to join. Hell, I would join anything that protected my family and got us away from Voldemort."

"Then why didn't you?" she sat beside him.

"The dark mark. By the time I realized how horrible his mission was, I already had it. He can track our location with it. He knew where I was every second of every day. I would have endangered you. I couldn't do that. I couldn't put you in danger."

~ #4 ~

"Granger! Just shut up and get behind me!" He yelled, squaring off in front of his haggard father.

"Malfoy! I know every spell in every book. Even the dark ones! I know how to defend myself!"

"You might know them, Granger, but you've never used them." The fight began.

**AN** so I might add a few more, but these are all I have at this time. Ignore the quality (I did no editing whatsoever). Send me feedback!


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